


Love is a Sacrament

by Hyrulehearts1123, sageclover61



Series: Likened Water into Blood [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels are Dicks (Supernatural), Archangels, Arranged Marriage, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sam Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25121524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: “Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling, and 'Lord I am not worthy' should be on the lips and in the hearts of those who receive it.”- Oscar Wilde in De Profundus.Sam would very much like for the civil war between the angels to end, and for angels to not wipe humanity off the map, so when Castiel invites him along to the peace negotiations, he's all for it. Even when it ends with angels trying to betroth him to Raphael. Who cares about his informed consent when angels can never coerce humans again? Except, for some inexplicable reason, Raphael does care.6 times Raphael knelt for Sam, 6 times Sam knelt in return, +1.Season 6 AU, prequel to the Likened Water into Blood series.
Relationships: Raphael/Sam Winchester
Series: Likened Water into Blood [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572451
Comments: 12
Kudos: 31





	1. An acquaintance that begins with a compliment is sure to develop into a real friendship.

If anyone had told Sam before he jumped into the Cage with two angry archangels, that he would still get a storybook romance, he would have laughed in their face and attempted an exorcism with his fancy demon blood powers. Monsters didn’t get fairy tale stories, and he wasn’t in a fucking fairy tale.

Chuck Shurley’s  _ Winchester Gospels _ were most certainly  _ not  _ a fairy tale. They were  _ horror sci-fi  _ that belonged under  _ biographical nonfiction.  _ That made them more creepy and less mythological. There was no room for a “storybook romance” in the life of Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood.

And yet, after being safely removed from the Cage, soul and body together, by one Castiel, and then, eight weeks later, invited to attend peace negotiations with Raphael, the last remaining archangel and against whom Castiel was leading a rebellious civil war against, it felt very much like being in a fucking fairy tale.

“Go be with Cas,” Sam had said to Dean. Not, “Go find Lisa,” or whatever poppycock  _ that  _ was supposed to be.

Without his being in the way, Sam could see them being happy together without him. Maybe Dean would give up hunting, maybe he wouldn’t, but he would be happy again someday.

They were happy, but there was more to it than that. Castiel told Dean before he tried to free Sam from the cage,, and more importantly, Sam’s soul was still intact. All in one piece, in his body where it belonged.

There was still a war in Heaven, still a power vacuum, but Castiel was in contact with the Winchesters and didn’t make the stupid decision of teaming up with Crowley to open Purgatory. He had two Winchesters brainstorming better ideas.

The war came to a standstill. Both sides were losing valuable assets and each casualty was another angel too many dead.

Dean didn’t seemed to care, but Sam had to wonder at the greater ramifications of that. There was no infinite supply of angels, so what would happen if their numbers continued to dwindle into the future?

“What is the war being fought over?” Sam asked.

“Raphael seeks a way to reopen the cage, and must be stopped.”

“Are you sure?” Sam hadn’t met the archangel yet, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that was the truth.

Dean was inclined to call the only remaining archangel a nihilist, but perhaps there were reasons for him to come across that way, separate from any facts they were aware of.

Either way, Sam wanted the truth, but it seemed like that was never going to happen.

“I have been asked to meet with Raphael,” Cas said one day. 

“To discuss terms for peace?” Sam asked.

“I’m not sure. Would you like to come with me?”

Somehow, without knowing exactly how he ended up there, Sam had ended up in the middle of a forest, the only human in a meeting of angels.

And even after everything that he had seen and been through, Sam still found himself in awe. His whole life, he had believed in the power of angels, of mighty beings that would protect humankind from the evils of the world, and guide them towards enlightenment. Everything that had happened through the Apocalypse That Wasn’t had shaken his faith, but standing there, surrounded by the beings he’d spent a lifetime praying to, he could  _ feel _ the otherworldly nature of them all, something that was usually unnoticed with Castiel.

One of the angels, who was wearing a vessel with dark skin, walked up to where Castiel and Sam were standing, a strange look on their face. “Castiel,” they greeted, nodding softly towards Sam. “I see you have brought a visitor to our meeting.”

“I did,” Castiel confirmed, looking towards Sam for a moment, before looking back at the other angel. “Sam, this is Raphael. Raphael, this is-”

“Sam Winchester, the Boy who Believed.” The archangel cut Castiel off, a small smile forming on their face. “It’s an honor to meet the one who helped bring peace between my eldest brothers.”

Almost immediately, Sam could feel his face warming, as he reached to shake Raphael’s offered hand. “I didn’t really do anything, though,” he protested softly, unsure of how else to respond to Raphael’s words.

But Raphael shook their head, their smile steady. “You did more than you realize. You let them be alone together, to work out their feelings and emotions, in a safe place where they can’t hurt themselves or others, and where the other, younger angels will not have to listen to them fighting again.” They paused for a moment then, taking a breath before continuing. “I know that it is hard to comprehend, but  _ you _ have given my family a second chance, one that our father never saw fit to give. For that, I can never thank you enough.”

Sam swallowed, and looked away. He remembered very little from the moments following his jumping into the Cage, but what little he did remember was already too much.

He remembered how  _ lost  _ Lucifer had felt, hiding his loneliness and terror and hurt behind a facade of anger and hate. ' _ Nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about family,'  _ Dean had said to Gabriel. But it hadn't just been Gabriel. It had been Michael and Lucifer too. You don't hate someone enough to destroy the world if they weren't someone you loved first.

He swallowed again. Dean would kill him for caring, but that didn't stop him from asking, "Are they going to kill each other down there?"

"That's the beauty of the second chance you gave them. They can't die. In a few aeons, they'll get bored and make up."

Sam didn't know what to say to that. He found it hard to believe that after making such a huge effort to create a circumstance in which they could kill each other, they'd just… let it go after a few aeons alone together in the cage.

Then again, they'd probably get bored of fighting uncountable battles that ended in yet another standoff.

Raphael glanced towards where other angels were milling around the clearing. "It has been a long time since I was able to walk among Father's creation with no pressing matters to keep me. Sam, would you be willing to accompany me?"

Sam shrugged. "Isn't this an important peace treaty negotiation?"

“Everyone here knows what will happen if they break the peace of this place anymore than it already has been. Right, Castiel?”

Castiel hesitated, then with a nod, said, “Of course. You’ll be safe, Sam. There’s consequences for breaking a truce here, even for an archangel.”

Sam wasn’t sure that it was his own safety that he was supposed to be worrying about, but who was he to argue. The archangel wanted to go for a walk and leave everyone else unsupervised, but at least they were acting less… nihilistic… than Dean had described them. “Aright, sure. A walk through the forest it is, then.”

“Thank you, Sam.”

* * *

There was a path out of the clearing and further into the forest, which Sam decided was unexpected, and even more unexpected, was that Raphael wanted to follow it. Sam would have expected the archangel to choose a route less… human made. He was certain that Castiel had taken him somewhere in Heaven, so everything about this was a little strange, including the fact that there was a path to begin with.

It could have been some evergreen forest on Earth, but probably not one that he’d ever been to. It was more then a little strange, actually. It felt  _ more  _ real than his and Dean’s trip through Heaven, the one they could remember, had felt. Was that really saying much? The angels had said that Heaven looked a different way, changing to fit an individual’s perception.

Yet Raphael had suggested this was Creation, different from what they saw everyday. The implication of that was that this was Earth.

It was different, though. Other than the path, it appeared unmarred by human touch in a way that Sam wouldn’t have expected to be possible, but couldn’t have explained, either.

It was amazing, in a way that Sam couldn't describe, even if he tried. The trees were unmarked, no pink or orange ribbons marking them for cutting, no bemoaned lovers’ initials carved into the trunks, something he’d seen far too much of hunting wendigos in forests much like this one.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Raphael spoke, their voice quiet as they led Sam along the path through the trees. "This place was one of Father's greatest creations, and the epicenter of all life upon earth."

Sam nodded, at a loss for words. What was there to be said? It seemed almost blasphemous to break the natural silence. There was no wind brushing the tree limbs together, and he couldn’t hear any bird song. Yet it wasn’t an eerie silence, rather, it seemed as though the air was waiting on bated breath. An inhale, rather than a mournful death.

They traveled deeper into the thickest part of the forest, no true destination in mind, just walking. Sam found himself often ducking to avoid a wayward tree limb, until Raphael started shifting the limbs out of the way with a hand. Sam was careful not to touch anything. Doing so would have felt… sacrilegious, though he couldn’t place exactly why he felt that way.

Perhaps because this place still felt so unmarred by human touch. Something about it made him feel like, even though he had been invited and brought here, he still didn’t belong, and likely never would.

He just hoped that he wouldn’t taint this place, just by being present within it. He already knew all too well that he was tainted, corrupted within the deepest depths of his being, but that didn’t give him any right to corrupt the things around him, though he never meant to do any such thing.

"Did you know that the Tree of Knowledge was a Banyan Tree?"

Sam blinked. "I didn't." People had been speculating for centuries on the possibilities of what the fruit had been that had caused humans to fall from grace with God in the beginning, but even their research for handling the apocalypse had not identified it. Apple and Pomegranate had been the obvious answer to some people, but nobody really knew. Sam wasn't sure anyone should know.

"It was symbolic, though. Humans don't have the capacity to communicate with trees, and Eve taking the first bite didn't suddenly impart new genetic memory onto the species. Rather, she made a choice, exchanging the permanent innocence of the Garden for the free will required to grow and change. The knowledge of good and evil is irrelevant without the freedom to choose between them."

"I'm not familiar with the Banyan Tree, was there a symbolism in it being the Tree of Knowledge over another kind of tree?" Sam wasn't sure he'd seen one before, but there must have been something about it for Raphael to mention it.

The archangel smiled, stopping and then motioning to one of the trees. "Banyan Trees are also referred to as Strangler Figs in some of humanity's circles, I believe, but their vast root structure allows for the single organism to cover vast distances, and their fruit provides nourishment for species of flying creatures that spread seeds of not only their kind, but other trees as well. Think of the Banyan Tree as a living version of the Library of Alexandria. Their dependence on other trees to first get started means they can learn everything that the other trees know, across large expanses of forest."

Humans could be like that as well. They were dependent on what was provided by the Earth for everything. Plants and animals for food and clothing and housing and warmth, earth metals and ore for warmth and fertilizer, along with everything else humans demanded. They took and took and took and it was possible that Uriel had had a point about the wanton destruction wrought by his kind, but there was so much more to them than that.

“Humanity is like the Banyan Tree, but they're defined by the choices that they make, choices the Banyan doesn’t get to make, as their nature doesn’t allow it. Lucifer also made a choice, and it should have given my kind the capacity to also choose, but it did not, not then But here we are today, forging a new path with new peace, because you and your brother were able to give an angel the free will to choose not to allow Lucifer and Michael to destroy the world, and I want to thank you for that.”

“We as individuals are defined by the choices that we make.” In the most simple terms, making good choices was supposed to lead to more choices, and making bad choices led to fewer choices being available.

For Sam and Dean, it always felt like there were no choices. Only which hunts to do and in which order, because not hunting wasn’t an option. To even consider not “saving people and hunting things” was selfish.

He had chosen the demon blood and it had tainted him, and it was no less than he deserved because actions were supposed to have consequences. So why was this archangel telling him and the Banyan Tree and choices? Why hadn’t they already smote him,  _ punished him,  _ and called it a day?

“Perhaps,” Raphael said after a moment, sounding unconvinced. “But I don’t think they should be defined by the choices others force them into. Consent is important, even for things outside sexual situations, and coerced consent is not consent.”

“Seemed to work just fine for taking a vessel,” Sam mumbled bitterly. “And the breaking of the first seal.”

Raphael frowned. “The demons are bound by different rules, but I’m unsure what vessel coercion you are referring to.”

Sam closed his eyes. “Uriel and Zachariah and Dean.” He could remember with clarity the moment Zachariah had taken his lungs and given Dean cancer. He’d been sure he was about to die, suffocating with the vital organ.

“That should never have happened,” Raphael snarled, but Sam could tell their anger was not at him. “It  _ won’t  _ happen again.”

“Will the treaty include that clause?” Sam wasn’t sure why he asked it, nor why he phrased it as a challenge, but it felt  _ right _ . He had no idea what all the treaty would include, but he hoped that Castiel would ensure that it contained such protections for humans.

Raphael considered Sam a moment, then nodded once. “Yes, Samuel. The treaty will include such protection for humans. It never should have stopped existing.”

The archangel turned and continued walking, leaving Sam with no choice but to follow. He couldn’t understand why Raphael cared. The other angels, particularly Uriel, had considered them to be nothing more than mud under his shoe, so why was Raphael agreeing to Sam’s request with no thought?

What was the cost to their ease of agreement? His soul? Was his soul even valuable enough to buy off the destruction of the planet? There was no way it could.

“There’s something over here I think you’ll enjoy,” Raphael said after they’d woven around a few more Banyan pillars.

What could Raphael possibly want to show him? The death trap that was the entire reason Raphael had invited him along? There was no way Raphael breaking the peace could have any actual consequences for them. Could there?

Once Sam had ducked unter the latest set of branches so that they were next to Raphael, he could see what Raphael had wanted to show him.

There was a marble statue of a dog sitting on its back haunches. It was a little bigger than an average labrador, but the size made it no more menacing. Ears standing at attention but mouth relaxed, it looked like a guardian standing at attention.

The statue was the only thing Sam had seen in the forest yet that had any hint of human make to it, and yet there was something about it that reeked of  _ more _ than something a human could make.

Sam was almost certain that the marble would be warm to the touch, but he didn’t like he should touch it. The forest guardian was to look at, not touch.

“Go ahead, Sam. You’re welcome to touch her. She’s been all alone for a very long time.”

Sam hesitated a moment, but his curiosity to touch the statue that almost seemed to be humming was too much.

He approached her slowly, and then knelt to rub her head as he would have a real dog. A gentle scratch between the ears followed by a gentle stroke down her head and across her back.

She was warm to the touch, warmer than it would have made sense for a general statue to feel, but it was almost no surprise, as though she thrummed with magic.

“Who is she?” Sam asked, glancing back at the archangel. Statues tended to be memorials, right? So she must have been made in  _ something’s  _ image.

Raphae shook their head, smiling openly. “Watch,” they said.

Sam turned back to the statue, looking just in time to see  _ and feel  _ her pulse, once, twice,  _ a constant heartbeat _ , and change. It looked like she was melting, marble into golden fur, black and pink nose, blue eyes.

She didn’t move from where she was sitting under Sam’s hand, but her tail wagged slowly enough that Sam could watch it, first swinging in one direction and then in the other. He could  _ see  _ the moment it changed direction.

“She’s real,” Sam breathed, as confused as he was elated. Why was there a magic living statue here? Wouldn’t she get lonely here? There had been no sounds of any kind, no birds, no humans. Just a guardian statue all alone in an unmarred forest.

“She is,” Raphael agreed. “She likes you.”

Sam wondered how they could tell, but the dog hadn’t moved yet, seeming content to allow Sam to pet her for now. So he did.

After several strokes, she licked his arm and stood up, before stretching doward, facing him, in the way dogs did that had become the yoga position called downward dog. Almost like a bow, but he knew it was probably just a stretch.

Sam’s lip quicked up for a moment, and then he stroked her back again. “That must have been a long nap for you, so long you turned to stone.”

Without a sound, or response, she padded over until she was in front of Raphael and repeated the downward stretch.

Sam froze, eyes wide as he stared at the dog. For her to do it once, sure, that was a stretch. But this was a clear bow, and it was a shock. He understood why she would bow to Raphael, they were an archangel, a being that clearly deserved the respect and attention.

But… why did the dog bow before him?

He didn’t deserve that honor, he was barely worthy of being anywhere near this beautiful and magic creature, not when he could corrupt her just by being close to her.

Sam still didn’t know what to think, when he saw Raphael move to stroke the dog’s side, a soft smile on their face. “Thank you,” they murmured, bending to press a kiss between her ears, before leaning their head against her’s. “It’s been far too long since last I saw you, Eden.”

That name was familiar, but Sam couldn’t quite place where from, until he thought about everything that had happened that day. He’d been brought to a garden full of angels; angels who had been shocked by his presence, and taken on a long walk through the garden by an  _ archangel _ , who had called it one of their Father’s greatest creations, and mentioned that they hadn’t been within its boundaries in a long time. And then, there was the name that they had called the dog, or maybe, they were talking to the area around them?

Regardless, it wasn’t  _ just  _ a name with a biblical origin. It was supposedly the Garden of humanity’s origins. The one place on earth that, after Adam and Eve had sinned, and been banished from it’s walls, no other human had ever entered again.

In fact, nearly every text had said that there was at least one guardian standing in front of the entrance, keeping any human far away from its boarders, so it shouldn’t have been anywhere near possible for him to enter it. He couldn’t be there, he had to be making the wrong assumptions,  _ needed _ to have been mistaken.

He was tainted beyond repair, so there was no way that he could be in  _ the Garden of Eden _ .

The marble turned real dog whined at Sam’s feet. At some point while he’d been lost in thought, she had retreated away from Raphael’s feet and returned to sit behind him, facing the same direction he was. Towards Raphael, but also further into the forest itself. She watched the forest for a long moment, before turning back towards Sam, gently pushing her way into his arms, nosing at his face as she whined softly.

“Hey, girl,” he whispered, gently scratching her shoulder. “Fierce guardian just a myth, huh? Just a sweet lonely girl.”

“You’ll find that she’s just as fierce a guardian as any legend tells, though she is slow to provoke, unless her pups are in danger.”

Sam glanced at Raphael. “Still lonely, I think.”

Raphael sighed. “No, you’re not wrong. It’s been far too long since she’s had a visitor. Isn’t that right, Eden?”

The dog wuffled gently, almost seeming to agree to the question Raphael was asking her. After a moment, she licked Sam’s face.

There was no way this wasn’t a trick, Sam thought. Sam loved dogs, had always wanted one for his own, but why would such a gentle and magical creature want to be anywhere near him? He was tainted, too tainted for a pure guardian named after the original Garden.

"Sam? Would you like to continue walking with me? I think Eden would enjoy a nice stretch after such a long sleep."

“Okay,” Sam agreed, putting Eden back on the ground and rising from his kneeling position. Sam had barely taken more than a step or two before Eden was falling into step beside him. It was a  _ perfect  _ heel.

Why was she walking beside him? Sam wondered as he followed Raphael back into the forest. She was clearly an intelligent creature, there was no reason for her to choose to walk beside him when she was fully capable of going where she wanted to. If she knew this forest even better than Raphael, as he suspected, why did she not lead the way? What purpose could it serve for her to walk beside him?

“Raphael?” Sam’s voice was hesitant. He was confused, but he didn’t want to cause offence, either. Why were they here? This didn’t seem to have anything to do with the writing of the peace treaty, so why was the archangel wasting time out here in the forest? “Why are we walking? Why am I even here?”

The archangel looked at him for a moment, before waving a hand towards the forest around them. “Initially, I wanted to get to know you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you, and wanted to see if there was any truth to any of the numerous rumors about you and your brother, but now, I simply want to show you this place.” They paused for a moment, considering their next words, before they continued. “I’m sure that you know what this place is, whether Castiel told you, or you figured it out on your own, and I’m certain you have questions, many of which I can’t answer right now, but I promise that all will be answered, and soon.”

Sam frowned. If this  _ was  _ the Garden, which he still wasn’t sure about, that didn’t explain why the truce was held here, or why he was present. Or why the magic marble statue had come alive when he’d pet it, and not devoured him instantly. But if Raphael wasn’t going to answer his questions yet, there was no reason to ask them after all.

A few twists and branches ducked beneath later, Eden whined softly, but she didn’t stray from perfectly heeling beside Sam.

Raphael stopped, pausing to turn again to look at the guardian. “Of course, Eden. Show me where?”

Eden moved to where she was now walking about a step in front of Sam, leading them deeper into the forest, though Sam had a feeling as if they were moving back towards the center of the garden. Every few steps, she would turn back to make sure that they were still following her, which almost made Sam feel comfortable, knowing that she wouldn’t just run off and abandon him.

What did Eden want Raphael to see, and why did the archangel care to see it? If Eden was the guardian of the Garden, then of course Raphael, as the  _ only _ remaining archangel left in Heaven or on Earth would rank way higher than her. And yet here they were, walking with him and following the dog, as though they were not things so far beneath them.

A few moments later, Eden sat on her haunches in front of a patch of new growth, and whined.

It took a moment for Sam to realize what the problem was, but when he noticed it, a deep sadness and shame filled him. The plant, which he wasn't entirely certain what it was, had been clearly crushed, and was wilting dramatically before his eyes. Brown star shaped flowers littered the ground around the plant as well, clearly knocked loose from the plant. 

Since they were so close to where Castiel had brought him, it was more than clear to him what had happened.

He'd somehow ignored or neglected that it was there, and had walked all over it, and even that slight contact had been enough for him to taint it.

Suddenly, he thought back to all of the various plants that he had touched, just by walking past them, and a sense of looming dread nearly overwhelmed him. He'd doomed this place, just by existing within it, and he would never be able to forgive himself for such a sin.

He clearly didn't belong here. Clearly Raphael was wasting their time with him and should simply smite him already. That was obviously the only means of rectification.

Eden barked once, a sharp "stop that" that drew Sam's attention back to where she was now sitting before him, staring him down again in the same watching but not dangerous pose she'd assumed as a marble statue.

"One of my siblings was less careful than they ought to have been, Sam, but it'll only take a moment for me to repair the damage." Raphael knelt beside the plant, hands glowing with a soft blue color as they gently straightened the mangled and torn leaves until it was no longer wilting but healthier, each leaf looking stronger than they had before they had been broken, when compared to the other plants around it. As Sam continued watching, green flowers started growing on the plant, some turning red and then from red to brown.

Sam found himself creeping forward, awed by the tender display of power. It was clear that Raphael did care so much for the plant, though it was still impossible for Sam to comprehend that they did.

Then again, Sam supposed, even what little lore humanity had on the archangels, most sources agreed, even the ones that couldn’t agree that they were an archangel, that they were the Healer. So if Raphael was the archangel of Healing, then maybe it made sense for Raphael to care enough about the plant to make it right.

But that still didn’t explain why they bothered with him. He was too tainted, too broken, too  _ wrong _ , to be worth even trying to heal.

“This is star anise,” Raphael said when they noticed Sam was standing close to them. “One of the other angels stepped on it, but now that I’ve healed it, it’s leaves and roots should be hardier now, allowing it to grow and thrive as one of the larger star anise shrubs here.” The archangel very carefully pinched off one of the brown flowers from the plant and as Sam took it, he realized that it had begun the process of drying, and that many of the brown flowers on the ground had already dried, ready to spread their seeds and grow new plants.

Sam considered the flower for a moment, and then put it in his mouth. It tasted like the candy considered to be flavored for black licorice, but stronger. There was something about it though, like there was more to it. Lingering tang of grace, perhaps? But would that leave a taste so obvious? He had no way to know, of course. He hadn’t eaten anything affected by grace. Dean hadn’t either, but they as humans were so unworthy of such an act, so why would they have?

He glanced back to Raphael, only to realize that the archangel had been watching him, a strange sort of smile on their face. An odd feeling flooded Sam, one he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same shame he was all too familiar with, but something almost softer. Embarrassment? But what would be he embarrassed about? After everything, he’d thought that he wouldn’t have cared so much for what an angel thought of him, except for Castiel, but that was just because the seraph was always around him and Dean anymore.

So why did it seem like he cared so much about what Raphael thought of him?

It didn’t make sense, he had only met them an hour ago, at the most. There was no reason why he should care what Raphael thought, or any of the other angels, for that matter.

“Do you like it?” Raphael asked.

Sam shrugged. “Mhm. It tastes like artificial black licorice candy, but natural, but with more depth of flavor with a hint of something… sharp. Citrus? But star anise  _ isn’t  _ a citrus.”

Raphael’s strange sort of smile seemed to widen, for a moment. “It’s a property added from healing it with my grace. You can taste it?”

Sam moved the flower around in his mouth, trying to get a better sense of the notes of flavor. Now that he  _ knew  _ he was looking for the out of place citrus, it was easier to find. Yet it wasn’t sour, as could be expected from citrus fruits, somehow, it also decreased any bitterness the star anise might have naturally contained. “It’s not just citrus… It’s almost sweet, and it’s hiding any natural bitterness the star anise might have originally carried.”

“Would you like another one?” Raphael asked, pinching off a second of the drying flowers as Sam swallowed the one in his mouth.

“Yes please,” Sam found himself saying, though he wasn’t sure why. It was just a spice. A delicious one, but why was Raphael sharing this with him? He was too tainted to eat from the Garden.

Yet as Raphael handed him another one, still smiling, Sam couldn’t help but break it in half so that he could enjoy it for twice as long. The flavor was almost overwhelming, yet delicious.

A quiet and comfortable time passed, Sam standing and eating the offered spice, Raphael kneeling beside him and tending to the plant, occasionally offering Sam more tastes of dried flowers.

It came to an end, however, as everything that was good ever did, when Raphael stiffened, looking into the forest for a moment, before turning back to Sam, the smile gone from their face.

"The others have all but finished," they sighed, a look of something similar to disappointment filling the place where the smile had been. "We should return, lest they come looking for us, and trample more plants."

Sam nodded as Raphael stood. He'd expected that his time with the archangel would be cut short from how long he'd almost hoped it would have been, but he was satisfied enough with how long he'd gotten. He'd almost been expecting something to happen and interrupt them sooner, even before they had stumbled across Eden.

He waited until Raphael started walking in the direction of the clearing where they’d left the other angels and then joined them. Eden also walked along beside him.

Sam was careful not to touch anything, but he noticed how sometimes branches that seemed like they would need to be pushed gently out of the way were suddenly not in the way anymore, as though they’d moved themselves just out of reach.

A strange, twisty feeling built in Sam’s stomach, along with the shame from earlier. Even though he’d tried his best, and had done everything he could to not touch anything, and not damage anything, the garden itself was avoiding him now, as if every plant just  _ knew _ how tainted he was.

Something unfamiliar touched Sam’s hand, and as he looked to see what it was, he found that he was walking alongside Raphael and that the archangel had taken Sam’s hand.

Why would the archangel do that? Touch him? Willingly? He was so tainted even the plants were removing themselves from his reach!

Sam didn’t have the opportunity to question or pull away because then they were walking right back into the clearing, where the angels were milling around again. Or still.

Castiel seemed to notice them first. “Welcome back, Sam, Raphael.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Sam mumbled, a slight panic starting to build at how nothing seemed to have changed while he had been away. Wasn’t this supposed to be a negotiation for peace? “Has the treaty been written?”

“There’s one last measure to be agreed upon,” Castiel answered. “We were waiting to see that both you and Raphael returned unharmed.”

“What?” Raphael had been surprisingly easygoing, but Sam hadn’t thought that he’d ever been in danger from the archangel.

One of the angels regarded Sam with a sneer, looking him up and down with clear disgust. “Well, you  _ are _ human. There’s no way of knowing what kind of depraved desecration you are capable of, especially with your prior  _ hobbies _ taken into consideration.”

Sam flinched, looking at the ground in an attempt to avoid the gazes of the other angels.

He’d thought that after everything he’d done, after nearly dooming himself to an eternity in the cage, in the depths of hell, the angels would have at least  _ some _ miniscule level of respect for what he’d done for them. Or, since even that was perhaps more than he deserved, he supposed that they should have at least realized that he  _ wasn’t  _ capable of harming something so pure and immortal as an angel. It wasn’t like he had an angel blade or holy fire  _ here  _ of all places.

There was a soft whine from directly next to Sam, before a soft, fur covered head bumped into Sam’s free hand. He looked down, and it was Eden, panting softly as she pushed at his hand again, clearly begging for pets and scritches.

Well, he wasn’t going to resist. She might have been the purest thing he’d ever come into contact with, other than Raphael and the angels, but there was no way he was going to deny her the scritches she was clearly demanding. She was  _ royalty,  _ and she was going to get what she desired.

“Who’s a good girl, hmm?” he mumbled as he scratched her. “Who’s a good girl.”

“Now look here, you  _ mud stain.  _ The last measure to be discussed concerns your continued existence, so pay attention.”

Eden snarled.

Immediately, all of the angels, Castiel included, backed away, looks of shock and horror on their faces. Seemingly satisfied with the reactions of the angels, Eden moved back to push at Sam’s hand, licking him gently.

Sam was confused, and didn’t know what was going on anymore. It was almost as if Eden was trying to claim him, but why? He didn’t deserve her affections, or her kisses. He was just as tainted as everyone said he was, even if they were overly cruel in the way they said it.

Clearly whatever Eden’s snarl had meant, the angels had heard it. But he had no idea what it was she might have said,  _ he  _ wasn’t capable of communicating with and understanding other species of creatures. “It’s okay,” he mumbled bitterly, petting her even as she licked him again. She didn’t need to do that. The angel’s words were nothing he didn’t already know. “Let’s have the last measure on the treatise, then. What’ll it be?” Had they decided they couldn’t have peace with his continued existence? Fine, then. Death was a worthy cause for extended peace. He could live with that. Did they just have to decide on the means?

Beside him, still holding his hand, the archangel frowned, but they said nothing at first, instead considering the angels before them. “Speak, Castiel,” they said after a moment. “Do you agree to the terms of the last measure?”

“I believe Sam must agree to the terms of the last measure, as the present representative for humanity. Unless Eden disagrees?”

Sam glanced at Eden, but she didn’t bark at Castiel, though she did tilt her head in the way that dogs do. So Castiel wanted him to agree to the terms of the last measure? He could do that. “I-”

“Need to hear the terms. We all do, and I will not allow any of you to force consent to unknown terms.” Raphael spoke suddenly, interrupting Sam before he’d even had a chance to begin to say anything. “In fact… the last measure ratifies the treaty, yes? I think we should hear the entire treaty first.”

* * *

It took so long for the treaty to be fully explained, that by the time they had gotten through all of it, Sam couldn’t remember why he hadn’t agreed to the terms necessary to ratify it yet. Humans were to be left alone, loopholes about wiping them out if they destroyed the planet were removed to the point where the angels actually would have to step in and prevent it if something like global warming was going to cause a mass extinction event, among other things. With an emphasis on consent in interactions between angels and humanity.

“Is that everything?” Sam asked. “Because that all sounds pretty good to me.”

“That’s everything save for the ratification terms,” Raphael answered. “Which we all need to hear first.”

One of the angels scoffed. “The human has already agreed! That should be more than enough!”

“No,” Raphael insisted. “Sam hasn’t heard what he is agreeing to, therefore he has not given his uncoerced consent. You state the final terms, or Sam leaves the negotiations.”

The scoffing angel pouted. “But-”

“But nothing. The final terms.”

Sam was  _ beyond  _ confused. He couldn’t think of a single thing that could possible be said that would make him disinclined to agree to the treaty. The promises made by the treaty were  _ almost  _ too good to be true, but there had to be some magic or something preventing it from breaking, which meant he just had to accept the terms and it would last  _ forever _ , and that was worth even the cost of his soul.

Didn’t Raphael want peace as well? Didn’t they understand that Sam had to do this, that there could be nothing capable of  _ preventing  _ him from consenting to it? So why were they stopping him?

“As human tradition indicates, the only thing capable of sealing a treaty of this magnitude is the marriage of you, Sam Winchester, and you, Raphael. The marriage bond of which will ensure the permanence of the treaty.”

Sam blinked. That was not what he was expecting. At all. He glanced at Raphael. Why would the angels do that to the archangel? The archangel was the highest ranking of them, was supposed to be the  _ best _ of them, and even from just the short time they'd walked together, he just knew that Raphael deserved infinitely more than he, as the most tainted of humanity, could offer.

He glanced at Raphael. "I'm not against the idea, but while I would not wish to inconvenience you, I do want to see the treaty ratified." Maybe this was the angels’ way of ensuring the treaty  _ couldn’t  _ pass. Write him into an impossible spot that wouldn’t succeed even if he gave his life for it.

But Raphael was frowning. “Sam, I am not the only one who will be affected by this condition. Your thoughts about it are important as well, and I do not wish for you to be pushed into something that you will regret later, whether you realize it or not.”

Sam glanced at the angels. “This is the only possible condition that will ratify the treaty?”

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “That would be  _ coercion. _ ”

“But-”

“Is coerced consent not defined as the employment of such tactics including emotional force to get someone to agree to something?”

“But it’s  _ worth it _ .” Sam didn’t know why Raphael was so upset, or why they were trying to keep him from accepting the terms already. It all seemed fine. Like it would prevent the other angels from just turning around and doing whatever they wanted, with no oversight, the same way they had been doing for so long, and that was more than enough for Sam to accept it, no questions asked.

But Raphael was stopping him, and keeping him from just doing whatever he needed to, so that the world would be safe forever. He didn’t need Raphael to ‘protect’ him, or whatever the archangel thought they were doing, the both of them just needed to accept the terms of the contract, and accept any consequences that would come from it, for the sake of the world.

"Sam? Would my own consent here be uncoerced?"

Sam froze. He hadn’t realized, hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility, couldn’t fathom that there was even the slightest chance that Raphael could be coerced into accepting a treaty that they didn’t agree with. Sure, Sam wasn’t exactly a fan of needing a marriage contract, but it was what was best for the world, so he could easily go along with it, and accept it without any complaints.

But if Raphael was having issues? If they didn’t want to go along with it?

What if they were against the treaty as a whole, but wanted to try and cause Sam to be the one who shot it down? They  _ were _ the one who was leading the other side of the war, according to Castiel, so there would be plenty of reason for them to keep the fight going.

Was this condition then orchestrated by the angels as a whole to ensure that the treaty would fail? If the terms of ratification were impossible by design,  _ then they could have been trying to prevent it from passing from the start. _ And since he was so insistent that it had to be written into the treaty that interactions between angels and humans could not involve angels coercing consent on humans, then it would be hypocritical to insist that Raphael had to consent to the arranged marriage, because that too was coercion.

“You want the war to continue,” Sam accused. “And convincing you to agree to an arranged marriage to me to end it is coercion. So I lose twice, is that it?” Not that he could really blame them, as far as the marriage was concerned. He wouldn’t have wanted to marry himself either. 

“If the terms of ratification aren’t finalized, there is no treaty,” another angel said. “You both have to choose.”   
  
“The civil war in Heaven must end,” Raphael said. “I will stand for no more senseless killing of our siblings. Therefore marriage can’t be the only thing to satisfy the terms of ratification.”

Yet another of the angels was glaring now. “The terms demand that we must allow the earth to be, and have peace with the humans, and as such, we require proof that they deserve such a peace! A union between heaven and earth through marriage is the most solid proof that the humans are worthy!”

“Would a cohabitation agreement not work just as well?” Raphael suggested.

“That’s not good enough,” an angel snarled. “Accept the terms of the treaty, Raphael, or this truce is over, and this Garden becomes a battlefield.”

Sam could see the angel already reaching for their angel blade. It was blasphemy to fight here. There was no way this wasn’t the Original Garden. The one Adam and Eve had gotten themselves banished from,  _ the one that he was likely the first human to enter since they had been banished. _

“I accept the terms,” he said, because he clearly had no choice but to do so. “I’ll marry Raphael. Let there be peace.” There had to be peace. Allowing the war to continue was not an option. Maybe the angels would be so busy fighting each other that the humans were left alone, but that wasn’t an acceptable outcome, even if they were being dicks about the treaty.

Sam’s words were almost lost to the fierceness of Eden’s howl. An “Awhoo!” of the highest order.

Raphael sighed. “90 days,” they said. “I insist on a 90 day courting period, to allow for true consent. My understanding is that humans allow for consequence-free annulment of marriage in cases of forced consent, and I would not see Sam’s consent so callously subjugated.”

“And you both can just… what, decide not to get married at the end of the 90 days? Then what?”

“This could work,” another angel said. “90 days for Sam to learn our traditions, and 90 days for Raphael to learn humanity’s traditions. A union of different sorts, but a union nonetheless. Even parting amicably upon the conclusion of the 90 days paves the way for longstanding peace. On the other hand, death of either Sam or Raphael at the hands of the other, or parting as anything less than on amicable terms,  _ or  _ any conclusion prior to the end of the 90 days precludes the agreement for peace, and war resumes.”

“And if there were to be marriage at the end of the 90 days?” yet another angel asked.

“Then it would be a festival to remember.”


	2. To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.

Raphael took Sam back to the hotel where Sam and Dean were staying. Sam was disappointed when Eden reverted to a statue as they were leaving, but Raphael promised that he could see Eden again later, that for right now she was still needed to protect the Garden, and Sam let it go.

He had more important things to worry about, after all. Like the fact that Raphael would be courting him for the next 90 days, and that he was probably supposed to be courting them in return.

They didn’t stay though, once they had made sure that Sam had been “reunited” again with Dean. Raphael merely wished them both a good evening, and left.

So Sam had to explain to Dean that the treaty had tentatively passed, but he wasn’t ready to try to explain the courting stuff, and he was certain that Dean would have no comprehension of why he was okay with the courting stuff, and didn’t want to deal with Dean’s lack of tact so it was shoved under the metaphorical rug, with everything else just like they always did.

There was no way it was a small metaphorical rug. They never talked about their feelings, or what the angels had done, so everything from the demon blood, to the nasty trip to heaven, to Lilith,  _ and now a marriage contract _ just went unspoken.

Sam would just deal with Dean’s explosion over it when Dean inevitably found out about it, and that would be that.

* * *

Sam didn’t see Raphael again for a few days. He and Dean moved around a lot, investigating a strange hunt around the full moon.

It was a werewolf, because of course it was a werewolf, and all Sam could think of the entire time they worked on tracking him down was Madison.

It had been awhile since he’d thought of Madison, but perhaps his thoughts drifted to her not only because of this being the first werewolf hunt since he’d killed her, but also that he also had a betrothal to focus on. 

Dean had thrown the fact that he had slept with monsters in his face. More than once. And by Dean’s definition, Raphael too would be a monster, and this wasn’t just sleeping with them. The other angels genuinely intended for the two of them to be wedded for the rest of eternity, and for any breaking of that to be used as an excuse to resume the extermination of humanity.

He hadn’t told Dean about it yet, but it was only a matter of time before Castiel did.

It was after the hunt was over and Dean had left for some bar somewhere that Sam was sitting on the porch into their hotel room and pouring hydrogen peroxide over the scratches that ran down his leg. It hurt, but the wounds needed to be disinfected. He didn’t want to hazard any guesses at what kind of bacteria might have transferred from the claws of the human eating monster.

Everything hurt, and he was certain his ribs were bruised, given how much he’d been tossed around like a rag doll. He was also beyond exhausted, not only from lack of sleep but also from worrying about the apparent betrothal to Raphael, as well as Dean’s future reaction when he found out about it.

The hunt hadn’t helped, only serving as a firm reminder that every single person he’d ever loved and/or slept with was dead, and most of them had been monsters, as Dean had so loved to remind him about.

Raphael wasn’t a monster. But they weren’t human, and his and Dean’s experiences with angels in general would not put them in a favorable light with Dean. Especially not with Dean and possibly Castiel firmly believing that Raphael had smitten Castiel,  _ and then there was the fact that Dean had trapped Raphael in holy fire to consider. _

The continuation of the war was going to be inevitable.

“Good evening, Samuel.”

Sam almost jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of Raphael, but there was too much pain and too much exhaustion to do much more than shake, the force of which caused the bottle of hydrogen peroxide he was holding to spill all over his leg.

It burned as it rolled down his leg, hitting every scratch and nick he didn’t know he had, and Sam leaned forward, resting his head on the bannister to ground himself against the onslaught of pain.

Just as suddenly as the pain had started, it faded, the liquid providing a cool relief from the burning hell it had been a moment before, and Sam found himself pulling away from the banister and tilting his head to stare at the archangel in confusion.

Raphael was still standing there, the only motion committed had been to frown at him.

Sam felt ashamed that it was his fault for their soft smile disappearing. “What?” he asked, confused. “What did you do?” Something about the hydrogen peroxide had changed, otherwise it would still be burning its way through the bacteria, cleaning his wounds in a way that only the fire could.

“I would not heal you without your consent, not when autonomy and consent are so important. I merely converted the hydrogen peroxide to water, the same as I would have if you had spilt lye, or if pulling someone from a fire. May I sit and tend your injury?”

Sam hesitated. He didn’t  _ need  _ the archangel to heal his injuries,the peroxide and some bandages would do the trick well enough, but he was also certain that he was  _ supposed  _ to be able to trust this one.

At least if they hurt him  _ now,  _ then they wouldn’t have to go through 87 more days of this farce.

“Sure,” Sam said. “Go ahead,” he added, to make sure it was clear that he was verbally giving his consent, and expected Raphael to sit beside him as requested.

Unexpectedly, Raphael did  _ not  _ sit beside Sam on the stairs, instead kneeling beside where Sam’s feet rested on the ground at the bottom of the stairs.

The main injury was a scratch down the outer part of Sam’s left leg, running between his knee and his ankle. Very gently, Raphael ran their fingers down Sam’s leg, just beneath the scratch. This didn’t hurt, it just tingled with a coolness that had to be their grace.

It felt strange to Sam to experience Raphael healing this way, because it was so different in contrast to the routine of Castiel merely putting his hand on either his or Dean’s forehead to heal whatever injury they’d sustained. Raphael was an archangel, a significantly more powerful being than Castiel, so it seemed incredibly unlikely for it to be necessary for Raphael to touch him to heal him, so why were they?

This was significantly more personal than Castiel's method, and Sam couldn't understand it. 

Nothing happened as Raphael completed the first stroke of Sam’s leg, and Sam was confused by that, especially once Raphael began a second stroke and he could see as the skin visibly knit itself back together as if he’d never been scratched in the first place.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, as curious as confused as to why the archangel was touching him so casually to heal where the archangel could likely do this without any contact. He was so  _ tainted, so wrong,  _ the archangel wasn’t supposed to touch him, should be inclined not to if at all possible.

"In the simplest terms, I am healing you," Raphael began, even as they continued to stroke Sam's leg. "It isn't as simple as merely waving my hands, however, as I find that it is easier upon one's body if it is done incrementally, allowing the body to heal itself, though I am greatly speeding the process."

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just wave it away?” That was about what Castiel did for them every time, never touching them for longer than strictly necessary to vanish their injuries, and it’d never left them worse for wear. Who cared about making it easier for him or Dean when it came to working as quickly as possible and not touching them unless it was essential?

Raphael sighed. "It can cause undue stress upon the body’s cells, as they expect there to be a wound where there is none, and if not calmed, it can cause scarring under the surface of the skin, leaving the area less flexible, lacking in sensation, or even bearing residual time, depending on the severity."

The archangel paused for a moment, before looking up at Sam. "You don't deserve to suffer that pain, and I will do anything in my power to prevent it."

“That’s never happened before,” Sam mumbled. More importantly, why was Raphael so insistent that he didn’t deserve it? Of course he deserved it. It was all he deserved.

“Just because you can’t see or feel it doesn’t mean that it hasn’t happened before, Sam. Or that something doesn’t exist. I think you understand that better than most would.”

Sam sighed. He didn’t want to keep arguing with Raphael, even though they clearly didn’t understand that everything was fine. He’d made due with the bare minimum for so long, and he’d keep going with that much for as long as he could.

He kept quiet, as Raphael continued their work. His leg  _ did _ feel better though, better than when he had been healed in the past. “Thank you,” he said, when it seemed like Raphael was done. It had been unnecessary for Raphael to heal him, but the archangel had done it anyway, and well, and deserved his gratitude.

“Healing is one of the few things I am truly passionate about,” Raphael replied, looking up at Sam with a smile that made his heart beat faster. “It is always an honor to help someone in need. Promise me you won’t use the hydrogen peroxide again. Soap and water is just as effective for cleaning, and won’t kill the newest skin cells.”

Sam felt his face heat up, and he looked away, hoping that the archangel wouldn’t notice. Not that it would ever work, since any time he would blush, at least as a kid, it would always spread to his ears, and down his neck.

To Raphael’s credit, if they noticed, they didn’t say anything about it as they stood, reaching out a hand to help him up. “Why don’t we go inside? The night is bringing a chill, and it will only continue to do so.”

He cleared his throat, trying to push aside the embarrassment, as he nodded. “Yeah. Dean is out, and probably will be for a while, so he won’t be in the way.”

He glanced at Raphael again, almost overwhelmed by their nearly blinding smile. “That would be lovely,” they agreed, and to Sam’s horror, he felt his face heat even more.

* * *

Samuel Winchester was the most adorable human that Raphael had ever seen.

The man was so open with his emotions, completely unable to hide the clearly growing crush that he held for them, and Raphael was in awe over it. But there was still something deeply concerning about the way that he also seemed to be attempting to push those emotions away, the affection, the awe, and the budding infatuation, in favor of a deep, all too familiar self-loathing.

They were sad, as they continued to see just how strongly Sam felt that he was not worthy of help and affection, but they knew that they could do little about it until he trusted them more, and was willing to accept their help.

They watched as Sam entered the room that he was calling ‘home’ for the night, moving to sit on the bed furthest from the entrance, following a few steps behind him, as they sat on the other bed. The pair sat in silence for a moment, before Raphael watched Sam’s face darken once more.

“Sorry, this place probably isn't what you’re used to.” The human was mumbling, but Raphael simply smiled.

“It’s quite alright, I want to know a genuine version of you, not a version of you that you think I want to know.” They watched as Sam’s blush deepened, growing ever more certain that he was the most adorable being to ever exist.

“I guess you can make yourself comfortable? I mean, if you want to stay and all,” Sam was mumbling, looking away from Raphael as he did so.

The archangel ached for the human, wondering how such a remarkable individual could end up feeling so uncertain, so horrible about himself, that there was no room to accept that he was an honestly fascinating person, and that they earnestly wished to know more about him. Even if they weren’t bound by treaty to marry, they were certain that they would still wish to know him better, and could even have found the same affection that they already felt for him.

“I would like to stay,” Raphael said. “Unless that would make you uncomfortable?” Raphael was far from up to date on human customs, but they were certain that a number of their siblings would find it most inappropriate for Raphael and their betrothed to be alone without a chaperone. Raphael didn’t think Sam would have invited them inside if he felt similarly, but Sam’s relationship with self-loathing and inherent lack of self-worth suggested that perhaps such things would not occur to him.

Sam shrugged. “I don’t mind.” He glanced at the piece of technology on the wall that Raphael knew to be called a television. “Have you ever watched a movie? Would you want to?”

Raphael had not had the opportunity to watch television themself, but they were not unfamiliar with the concept. They also weren’t opposed to watching something with Sam if that was how the human decided they should spend some time together. “That sounds like fun. Do you have something in mind?”

“How do you feel about watching a nature documentary? I’m sure that from your perspective the science isn’t all correct, but I like seeing the variety of animals I’ll never get to see in real life.”

Raphael nodded easily. “I’d like that.” They would have watched anything Sam had selected, especially if Sam selected something that he loved, because they wanted to get to know him better, even if it turned out that something wasn’t really to their taste. But they didn’t think they would find it difficult to enjoy viewing Sam’s planet from a different perspective than one that they were used to.

“I’ll just connect my laptop to the tv so we can watch this one.”

The device that must have been Sam’s laptop was on the bed, and Sam picked it up before standing up.

Time seemed to slow, as Raphael had no chance of stopping what was about to happen. One of Sam’s shoes, which had already seemed to be worse for wear, caught on the corner of the footboard of the bed, causing the human to stumble. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to catch his balance, and he began to pitch forward, flailing in an attempt to catch himself as he fell.

To their horror though, it just wasn’t enough. He was falling too fast, at the wrong angle, and they watched as his head smacked against the edge of the table, causing it to collapse, as he fell further, until he was laying against the floor.

Raphael rushed to where Sam was lying, rolling the human onto his side, relieved to see that he was still conscious, though his vision was not focusing.

“Sam? Are you alright?” They asked, keeping their voice low so as not to startle Sam, as they quickly checked over the human. There was already a small puddle of blood forming from where the table had cut Sam’s head, and his ankle seemed to be sprained, if not potentially fractured, but they needed to have a better idea of what was happening with Sam’s mind before forming a proper list of prioritization.

The human was groaning, raising a hand to his head, face twisted in confusion. “Oww.”

Raphael sighed, reaching out with their grace to try and find the greatest injury that required healing soonest. “I know, Darling, I know. I’m sorry, I’m going to help, I promise,” they soothed, reaching a hand out to direct their grace to heal the cut along Sam’s hairline, to prevent any further blood loss.

Their next focus would be the concussion, to help ease the confusion and pain, as well as to help keep him from panicking. But first, “Sam, may I heal your concussion?” They hadn’t thought about asking permission to heal the cut too deep to be safe, but their increasing understanding of just how frequently their siblings had casually treaded on Sam’s bodily autonomy too many times had given them insight as to  _ why  _ it was so important to him that the rest of humanity  _ needed  _ to give their uncoerced consent to interactions with the rest of angels. While also seeing himself as clearly undeserving of that same respect.

Raphael found themselves wanting,  _ desperately,  _ to show Sam that he was deserving of all the same considerations he was insisting on for the rest of his race.

“What?” Sam blinked, a dazed expression appearing on his face. “Your eyes are pretty. Like… Like...”

They smiled indulgently. They were flattered, but they were also certain that Sam wouldn’t have said anything if not for the concussion. “I’m sure your head must hurt terribly. May I fix that for you?” Raphael gently tapped the side of Sam’s head to draw his attention back to what they were referring to.

“Uh… Okay, I guess,” Sam said after a moment of hesitation. “But why would you want to?”

Raphael refrained from sighing as the cloud of self-loathing once again settled over Sam’s shoulders like a well worn cloak. It was not a good look for him, but they could understand it. It would take more than a single conversation for Raphael to convince Sam that he deserved his own love, so he ignored it for the time being. “Because I want to,” they said, hoping that Sam could at least accept that.

“Dunno why,” Sam trailed off, and Raphael’s heart broke even more. They knew then and there that they wanted to show Sam that he was indeed worthy of affection, but that would have to come at a later time, if they were to do so properly.

And so, instead of attempting to find the words needed to prove Sam wrong, to show him  _ exactly _ why he deserved to love, and be loved in return, they instead swept their grace through him, gently and carefully guiding the bruised and battered body to begin the natural healing process, bolstering it with their power.

In the end, a process that should have taken weeks, if not months, was finished in mere seconds, with a care and precision that could not have been accomplished by any other on earth.

“Do you think you can stand?” Raphael asked gently when Sam seemed to refocus on the room.

“I think so,” Sam agreed. “Help me up?”

Raphael took Sam’s hand and helped him upright, and then Sam glanced at the mess that was his broken laptop. “ _ Oh no _ .” He winced. “Raph, can you fix it?  _ Please  _ tell me you can fix it. I have priceless information on there, and Dean will kill me if he finds out I broke it.”

They bent down, already using their grace to revert the device to the form it had been in before Sam had fallen. It was easier than healing a living being, because it was inorganic and didn’t need to repair itself. They didn’t need to understand the mechanics of the device to more or less reverse time on it.

There did seem to be something that didn’t belong, which they removed. A speck of grace they almost didn’t recognize, too distorted from its original form. But they had been too close to the owner once not to recognize it despite its changes.  _ “Little Hummingbird? _ ” they quarried gently, but there was no response or recognition from the last remainder of some prank spell Raphael  _ really  _ didn’t want to analyze more deeply.

They weren't surprised, after all they had believed Gabriel to be dead for thousands of years, and from time to time they picked up on molecule sized pieces of his ever evolving grace, but never enough to get a recognition out of, let alone trace.

_ I love you, I miss you, I'm sorry. _

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, and for a moment his grip on Raphael's hand tightened, a gesture of comfort, before he seemed to remember himself and dropped Raphael's hand hastily with a flush.

Raphael smiled, aiming for a reassuring nonverbal action, but landing closer to a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I thought there was a reminder of a little brother I was close to once and haven't seen in a very long time." They handed Sam his laptop back. "Perhaps we could watch the movie on your laptop instead of the television?"

"We can if you'd like to, but the screen is smaller so we'll have to both hold it. We could sit on my bed?"

The room was distinctly lacking in places to sit. There was a single chair or either bed, and that was it, which was likely how the two of them ended up sitting on the side of Sam's bed, watching a BBC special on Sam's laptop.

* * *

Raphael was mesmerized by how at peace Sam looked. As they'd watched first one documentary and then another, Sam had slowly grown more comfortable with being close to Raphael, until he'd fallen asleep with his head falling into their lap.

But for how peaceful Sam looked, Raphael was still saddened. For someone so pure, so worthy of love, to believe with all their being that they were worthy of nothing but scorn and abandonment, and to only  _ finally _ relax once they were asleep, it was heartbreaking. It had seemed at the beginning that Sam was so certain that Raphael wouldn't want to touch him that he'd resisted the urge to reach out himself, and Raphael was really starting to consider smiting whoever it was that had managed to shove so much self loathing on Sam.

Sam had made mistakes, but  _ everyone  _ made mistakes, and not even archangels,  _ or their God _ , was an exception. To expect to go through like  _ without  _ a single mistake was beyond hubris.

Not that Sam had expected not to make mistakes, but he seemed to loath himself for ones that hadn't even been his. The demon blood hadn't been Sam's mistake, originally. Young children couldn't be expected to understand why something was wrong, and infants under two even less so. Babies ate what was given to them, regardless of whether it was food or not, that was the expected behavior.

So an infant Sam swallowing the demon blood was not Sam's fault.

Raphael might have dwelled on that longer, except Sam shifted in his sleep, curling closer towards Raphael and sighing. It seemed to be a contented sigh, though it was hard to tell.

They brushed a hand through Sam's hair, watching as Sam seemed to lean into it. They wondered for a moment if Sam kept his hair long because he subconsciously enjoyed it when people played with it.

Idly, they continued playing with Sam’s hair, first gently detangling it and then weaving strands together.

They weren’t pleased at how their siblings had tried to force Sam into an arranged marriage with them, if only because Sam didn’t deserve for his future to be tampered with in such a way. They would never have considered such a bond for themself, but they did not think that they would find it difficult to properly court Samuel Winchester.

Starting with a pair of new boots.


	3. The world seemed to me fine because you were in it, and goodness more real because you lived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile! It's been a long and busy past few weeks, but this chapter is finally complete!

"They're  _ beautiful _ ," Sam whispered on day 5, when Raphael handed him a brand new pair of steel-toed, real leather work boots. He could barely see a faint glow of grace, but he could only guess at what wards Raphael might have put on them. Keep his feet dry? Accidentally break his neck in a way the angels wouldn't pin on Raphael and thereby break the treaty? He couldn't exactly tell. "But I didn't get you anything." It was supposed to be a mutual courting, wasn't it?

What could he possibly get Raphael that they needed as much as he needed a new pair of work boots? They were an archangel, did they even have material needs like humans did? Castiel clearly didn’t need to eat, or sleep, let alone material possessions. Wasn't even his angel blade just a physical manifestation of grace, like his wings?

“That’s alright, Sam. You didn’t need to.”

Sam swallowed, and looked at the ceiling of the most recent dilapidated hotel room so that he didn’t have to look Raphael in the eye. How was this courtship supposed to work when he could offer the archangel nothing more than a flea-infested room that didn’t even belong to him? 

"May I try them on?" Sam finally asked. It would be better to get an idea of the spells on them now instead of later, when Raphael could deny having anything to do with whatever they were.

Remove the plausible deniability from the scenario.

"Of course," Raphael smiled, taking a step back to allow Sam the room needed to try them. "I'm certain that they're your size, but I can make any adjustments that are necessary."

Sam slipped off the worn out tennis shoes he was borrowing. “What enchantments did you use?” he asked, hoping his tone came across as curious instead of anxious.

"I used several that I believed would be of use to you as a hunter, such as enhancements to their durability, comfort, and overall stability. There were also a few other enchantments, to help keep them from getting lost, to help you keep your footing, and making them nearly invulnerable to stains."

They were priceless, Sam thought as he put them on. If they did even half of the things Raphael said they would, it would still be worth it if they hurt him in the end.

Even more so, because they fit perfectly. There wasn't any strange looseness at the toes, or tightness in the heel, or any stitches sticking out and rubbing at his feet the wrong way. They were the single most comfortable pair of shoes he'd ever worn, and he knew immediately that any negative results of wearing them would be well worth it. “I love them,” he whispered, bending down to carefully tie the laces. It was so hard to get a good pair of hunting shoes without spending an entire night’s worth of hustling money that was really needed for more ammo or rock salt. Dean had been so displeased when he’d returned from the bar to find Sam’s shoes in pieces. And then there was that time with the rabbit’s foot…

How was he going to explain to Dean where he got this pair without explaining Raphael and the whole betrothal thing, and what could he possibly get that would be as invaluable to Raphael?

“Sam?”

Sam glanced up at the archangel who appeared to be fidgeting. “Yes?”

“I have to return to Heaven to deal with an emergency that’s come up. May I come back once I’ve settled it?”

There was all the deniable plausibility Raphael would ever need, right there. Of course they would have to come back, to make sure the deed had been done and that it was clear they had not been obviously involved in the nefarious plot. Or maybe they’d want it to be clear that they had forced the war to restart, Sam wasn’t sure.

He shrugged. “If you want to.” Who was he to deny the archangel that satisfaction? His hands were tied anyway.

* * *

It was well past nightfall when Raphael returned to Sam’s temporary habitation. The emergency in Heaven had been a training accident that had made it necessary to give a donation of grace to an injured angel. They were the only angel left capable of giving one to just any angel, after all. The rest were dead, or long forgotten, and that was the way of things.

They landed on the doorstep of the dilapidated room in which Sam and his brother would rest their heads, and saw through the worn window coverings that it was dark inside. It was also quiet. Even with their enhanced hearing, all they could hear were two adults screaming at each other from another room.

They knew that Sam was here, as they had flown specifically to a respectable distance from Sam and landed on the same doorstep they had left from earlier. The vehicle that they had quickly learned had been Sam’s only home for most of his life was missing from the parking lot, suggesting that Dean was not present.

Raphael knew that sooner or later they would have to officially meet Dean as Sam’s betrothed. They weren’t sure if Dean had told Sam all the details of the time he’d trapped them in a ring of holy fire, but they didn’t think Dean would take the news very well.

But that would be an issue for another night. For the moment, they merely wanted to ensure Sam’s wellbeing, and make certain that the human was not believing that they were unworthy of their affections. They reached out, knocking on the door, and waited. It was polite to wait for one to open a door, after all, and they wanted to do everything they could to ensure Sam’s comfort.

After several moments of silence, Raphael began to frown. They were certain that Sam was within the room, but there was no response. Perhaps he was asleep?

They could leave, they supposed. It was easy to see when interacting with Sam that he was often sleep deprived, so it would be better for his health if he went undisturbed while he was sleeping. Raphael could always return in the daylight, and their siblings were unlikely to approve of them lurking around unchaperoned, but after the farce that had been the negotiations for peace, they didn’t trust any of their siblings enough to serve as a chaperone. And then of course there was also the fact that Sam had well earned his discomfort with angels, so it was unlikely that he would  _ want  _ another angel to act as chaperone.

Raphael turned, preparing to take flight and return in the morning, when something stopped them.

It sounded like a soft whine, a half whistle of pain that was cut off after only a second. Raphael might not have heard it, if they hadn't been listening so hard for Sam.

With their enhanced hearing, it was more than possible that they were simply hearing something from a different room, but there was no way of knowing for sure. And if it were Sam that had made that sound, they would never be able to forgive themself for abandoning him when he could be in need of help.

Sparing only a moment to steady themself, they opened the door, unlocking it with barely a thought.

The room was dark, none of the lights that had been turned on earlier, and the curtains were drawn, blocking out the dim streetlamp outside. They were almost ready to accept that they had mistaken where the sound had been made from, when they heard it again. It was coming from the small bathroom in the back of the room.

Sam was lying on the floor of the bathroom, tightly squeezed between the toilet and the bathtub. His head was pressed against the cold ceramic of the tub.

Raphael's heart broke. How long had Sam been lying there, clearly unwell, without calling for help? Did the human not realize that there were people who were willing to help him? Or was he merely trying to hide that he did not feel well, for fear of being called weak?

Regardless of the reason, Raphael was not willing to allow him to lay there, clearly in agony, all by himself. They would show him that he could trust them, no matter the cost.

They knelt beside Sam’s head. “Sweetheart, can you tell me what’s wrong?” They reached out, running gentle hands through Sam’s hair, trying their best to comfort him.

Sam was whimpering again, trying to lean into Raphael’s touch, even as he cringed at the contact. “Don’t feel good,” he was whispering, shifting ever so slightly to be able to look up at Raphael. “Feel like I’m gonna be sick.”

Raphael gently continued running their fingers through Sam’s hair, careful not to tug too hard for his clearly over-sensitized nerves. “May I heal you?”

Sam flinched away from Raphael as though he’d been struck, narrowly avoiding banging his head against the tub. “No,” he begged.

"It's okay, Sam, you're okay," Raphael soothed. They didn't understand his rejection of healing, but they weren't about to try to convince him to change his mind. If that was Sam's decision, then they would sit here with him and try to offer comfort.

"Stomach hurts," Sam whined, shifting to rest his forehead against Raphael's shin.

Raphael nodded softly, deciding to begin the process of discovering what was bothering Sam. "When did that start?" They would forever blame themself if Sam had been feeling ill the entire time they had been near him, and they hadn't noticed.

“I dunno,” Sam mumbled. “A few hours maybe?”

That suggested that Sam hadn’t started feeling unwell until some time had passed after they had returned to heaven. It wasn’t ideal, as Raphael had been away for nearly an entire day, but it was still better than the alternative.

“Alright,” they soothed, mind racing as they tried to identify what could be causing Sam to feel unwell. “How does it hurt? Is it cramping? Or does it hurt like you ate too much?”

“Haven’t eaten.”

Nodding softly, Raphael continued. “Where does it hurt? I know your stomach hurts, but can you show me where specifically it hurts?”

“Hurts everywhere.” Sam wheezed a sharp inhale. “Why’re you here? I’ll be fine tomorrow, this just happens every few months.”

Sam’s statement could mean so many things, and Raphael wondered how it could not sound so worrisome to Sam as it did to them. They were well aware that Sam and Dean had both died an unusually high number of times during the apocalypse, and while it was unlikely that this had anything to do with any of those incidents, it so easily could have. None of the angels who would have returned Sam and Dean to their bodies would have done anything beyond healing whatever injury was lethal without considering an underlying cause, if had been, say, something that triggered an organ failure.

What did an angel know about a burst appendix, for instance? Would one just heal it, only for it to burst again, and again, and again?

“Sam, do you have an appendix?” Raphael asked, their tone filled with worry and grief at their thought spiral.

“Yeah? Why?” 

“I know that sometimes a stomach ache is just that, but I’m worried that it could be something worse.”

Sam sighed. "Alright, you can check," he said. "But if it's not fatal, there's no reason for you to do anything about it. You can just come back tomorrow."

Raphael frowned. They could not comprehend why Sam found himself so unworthy. If they could do anything about it, they just wanted to help Sam feel better. Instead of worrying about arguing yet, they carefully put a hand on Sam's stomach as lightly they could, and tried to find the source of the discomfort.

Acid reflux. Severe acid reflux caused by a troubling anxiety thought spiral.

Raphael knew Sam would not appreciate them poking around in his thoughts, so they didn't, but they still picked up feelings that had lingered earlier. Fear that the shoes were a murder weapon in disguise, fear that if that wasn't the case, Raphael would still come to realize how worthless Sam was and discard him the same way everyone else had. He feared Raphael hurting him as much as he feared Raphael leaving.

“Oh, Sam,” Raphael whispered. A wave of affection coursed through their being, and they desperately wished that they could show Sam that they would not harm him, nor leave him. They had no intention of causing  _ their human _ any more harm. He had already suffered far too much agony wrought upon him by their siblings.

It was well past time for peace, and, even more so, they just wanted Sam to be able to relax just for the sake of it.

Sam seemed to shake himself after a moment, a shudder to wake himself up, or a spasm of pain, Raphael wouldn't tell. But he blinked, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Slowly, his eyes dropped back to Raphael. "Dying hurts less, so I'm pretty sure it's not fatal. You don't have to stay. We could just do something tomorrow instead."

Raphael leaned backwards. "You're not dying," they said.

That did not seem to put Sam at ease as they had hoped it would. Sam watched Raphael for a moment, as though waiting for the archangel to leave, except Raphael didn't. "Why are you still here?" Sam finally asked after several minutes. "I'm not dying so there's no reason for you to heal me, and I wasn't planning on moving tonight so surely you must have something better to do than sit here doing nothing?"

"You asked me not to heal you, so I won't go against your wishes," Raphael said. "Please don't ask me to leave you here alone, on the cold bathroom floor. To do so would be harder than anything I’ve ever done in my existence."

“I don’t understand why it matters to you.” Sam looked away. “The rules of the engagement just say that we can’t banish or kill each other, not that you have to pretend to care about my wellbeing.”

“Sam, why do you believe me incapable of genuinely caring about your wellbeing?”

Sam made the mistake of glancing back at Raphael. That wasn’t it at all….

“Oh, I see. It’s not that at all, is it? Perhaps you don’t believe yourself to be deserving of so much as another being caring about your wellbeing.” Raphael nodded softly, a small, sad smile upon their face. 

“What?” Sam looked confused, but Raphael continued to smile softly at him.

“It’s ok,” Raphael soothed, reaching out a hand to Sam. “Let’s get you to a bed, so you can rest.”

Sam was still confused, but he accepted Raphael’s hand, allowing them to gently lift him away from the bathroom floor, before they carefully led him into the main room, and sitting him down on the nearby bed.

"Do you want to wear something more comfortable than these clothes?" Raphael asked.

They watched as Sam nodded slowly, before yawning. The poor human probably didn’t even realize how tired he was, after spending several hours in agony. He pointed to a duffle bag lying on the chair.

It took Raphael a few minutes of searching the duffle bag before they found the comfortable clothing Sam was likely to be referring to.

The plaid pants they found were softer than the course pants Sam was already wearing, but that was a low bar. There was also a simple shirt wrapped inside the pants so they figured they must go together.

They turned back towards Sam, ready to hand him the clothing, only to find him struggling to untie the boots that he was wearing. After a moment, he looked up at them, a sad, almost pitiful look on his face.

“I can’t get them off,” he mumbled, looking away as a faint pink covered his cheeks.

Raphael smiled, trying their hardest to keep from showering Sam in all the love and affection he so clearly deserved, as they moved back to the bed, kneeling in front of him.

“Would you like me to help?” They offered, waiting several moments for Sam to nod slowly.

Once Sam nodded, they put the change of clothing on the bed before carefully untying the laces of the boots they'd given to him, and placed them gently on the floor.

Sam looked away from the clothing on the bed as the dusting of pink on his cheeks darkened. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" Raphael asked. "I could go make a pot while you change." Embarrassment wasn't an emotion they had many occasions to feel, but they were familiar with humanity's notions of shame that came with nakedness.

Everyone knew that humans found nakedness shameful. Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden was not something an archangel was going to forget in their lifetime.

Sam smiled at them. It was a weak smile, but it made something in Raphael’s chest melt. “I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Sam.” With that, Raphael retreated to the kitchen area of the room to make tea for Sam, and give their human his privacy.

* * *

When Raphael returned with a tray of hot water and tea selections, they were almost certain that Sam was asleep at first glance. He’d managed to change into the pajama pants, though they were askew on his hips, but he was shirtless.

Raphael found themself looking at Sam’s bare chest. They could see all the previous attempts at Celestial healing, but every line, every scar, every fissure that had ever existed on his body, they were laid bare to the Sight of the Archangel of Healing. There was no hiding from them.

The most obvious of the healed prior damage was, of course, the old stab wound through Sam’s back. Sam’s cause of death at Cold Oak, and his first death. They were certain it had been grisly. Agonizing.

'Dying hurts less,' Sam had said earlier. Maybe by some mercy Sam didn't fully remember his deaths with clarity. Or maybe they were missing something important.

Sam glanced at them through eyes open the barest amount. "Rafa?" he keened.

They put the tray on the floor and flitted over to Sam, who reached out to touch their fingers. "I'm cold," their human mumbled.

There had been a large, soft, sweatshirt in the top of the duffle bag, so they summoned it with a thought. "Here, Sam, I think this will help," Raphael whispered. They carefully shifted their human, and pulled the sweatshirt on over his head. 

Sam hummed quietly, and reached for Raphael’s hands again. “Stay?” he whispered, peering at them with mostly lidded eyes. 

They smiled. “Of course I’ll stay,” they whispered. “As long as you’d like,” they added. They would not overstay their welcome, but as long as Sam wanted them here, there was no reason for them to leave. Especially not while Sam was suffering. They did not want to leave their human alone. They could not bear it.

The human tugged gently on Raphael’s sleeve, and then shifted further away from them, but did not let go of them.

“Lie down,” Sam said, and it seemed that he said it more forcefully than he’d intended because he instantly blushed and frowned down at himself. “I mean-” he backtracked, “if you want?”

They were certain their siblings would find this  _ most  _ inappropriate, but they found that they really didn’t care about whether or not their siblings approved of them spending time unchaperoned and in close quarters with their betrothed. There was also Sam’s family to consider and what reactions they might have if they walked in on the two of them alone together, but Raphael decided that was a concern for another time. Sam wanted them to lie beside him, and as long as Sam was comfortable with that, they wanted that too.

They laid down beside Sam, and Sam snuggled up next to them. Sam might have said something, perhaps, but he was asleep between one thought and the next.

Raphael did not need to sleep, but there was something special about closing their eyes and knowing that there was someone sleeping beside them again after such a long time of their being all alone. They did not need to guard their back against the one sleeping beside them, but they did know better than to let their guard down against anything that might come.

Not everyone was pleased with the engagement, after all.


End file.
